


Closing Time

by Talullah



Series: Radagast [2]
Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2004-12-13
Updated: 2014-08-22
Packaged: 2018-02-14 06:40:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,226
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2181801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Talullah/pseuds/Talullah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Radagast recalls his stay in Middle-earth and his relationship with Gandalf and Saruman.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Council

**Author's Note:**

> "Closing time" is the title of a Leonard Cohen song.
> 
> Companion piece to [More Than This](), but it can be read independently. Radagast is Aiwendil; Gandalf is Olórin; Saruman is Curumo.
> 
> Once more I have to thank Nefertiti for her generosity in taking this piece for betaing and for her kind words. I also thank _ice_lady_ for the help with the Quenya and weavinghugo for the much needed poke.
> 
> [Disclaimer/Blanket Statement](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Talullah/profile)

**Rhosgobel, 3 Fourth Age**

He never wanted me to come with him. That alone gives me a childish satisfaction even now. Who was to know then that his heart would blacken one day and that I would know it? Or better, that I had the chance of knowing it. It doesn't matter now: all his evils are fading as everything fades with time.

I remember. I remember many things; that is all I do now, hidden away in the recondite forest, deep in my Rhosgobel. He knocks on my door, shouts for me. I hear him but I do not want to answer his call. I do not know what to make of him.

But I am ahead of myself; these days my thoughts meander wildly, like rabbits chasing in the hedgerows. Curumo. Yes, let me go back to him while Olórin shouts outside. Why should I hate him for so long, even now that he has fallen, is a mystery to me. But I hate him almost as much as I hate myself.

* * *

**Valinor, 1000 Third Age**

Manwë was staring apprehensively at the cloudless night skies, almost as if he expected that they would open and Eru himself would bless us with his presence. Nothing of the sort happened, of course. We were left on our own. Some say it was the voice in his heart, some say it was Eru's whisper but by the end of the night he spoke:

"Darkness is upon Middle-earth again. I fear we cannot leave them helpless, as our distance has yielded some disastrous results before. I propose that we send some of our people to their aid against Sauron."

A murmur of agreement travelled through the assembly.

Manwë proceeded in his stern tone, "Those who choose to go must be mighty, peers of Sauron, but they must forgo might, and clothe themselves in flesh so as to treat on equality and win the trust of Elves and Men. But this will imperil them, dimming their wisdom and knowledge, and confusing them with fears, cares, and weariness coming from the flesh."

This time the murmurs in the assembly were not as supportive. Aulë asked, "Would it not be better to send one of us in all his might? Would our splendour not produce quicker results, whether it be in intimidating Sauron or persuading the peoples to obey?"

"No, Aulë! This is not our battle. And we must never force our opinion on Elves or Men. We can only counsel, and then they must choose for themselves. You know it has always been so."

"And how many would you send, my husband?" asked Varda, seeking to hush the discontented voices.

"I am not sure. Certainly not an army. Maybe three or four. Mandos, what say you?"

Mandos seemed strangely reluctant to pronounce his opinion, but in the end he said, "Perhaps there is room for one more."

"We will see." Facing the assembly he asked in his thunderous voice, "Who would go?"

Silence descended upon us, but I could see Aulë glancing at Curumo, who smiled smugly as he stepped in front of Manwë to offer himself. Oromë rested his hand on Alatar's shoulder and whispered something in his ear, to which Alatar smiled and nodded before stepping into the circle as well.

I felt someone passing next to me. It was he, Olórin, clad in grey as it was his habit, all dusty and as worn as one of us could ever look, for he had been journeying to the north, arriving only minutes before. He sat on the edge of the counsel in a dark corner.

Manwë looked around searchingly with his piercing eyes, but he could not see the one he wanted. "Where is Olórin, I ask."

Olórin rose, his face stern, his movements weary. "What would you have of me, my Lord?" I wondered how much he already knew of this, for he was close to Manwë and Varda, though he was from Nienna's people.

"I wish that you be my messenger to Middle-earth, the third chosen here today, for you are one of the few remaining who loves the Eldar."

Olórin's next words left it very clear to all that Manwë had been thinking on this for long and Olórin was no stranger to his thoughts. "My lord, we both know that I am too weak for such a task. And we both know that I am no match for Sauron. I fear him."

Manwë sighed. "All the more reason for you to go. I trust you to measure the dangers ahead of you, and I trust your love for the Eldar to keep your course steady. I command you to go as the third messenger."

Obviously these arguments had been repeated more than once, but now in public Olórin had no chance of having his way. My heart went out to him but was also joyous as Varda's voice rang clear, "Not as the third." I had for long admired Olórin, almost as much as I sought to avoid Curumo.

The meaning of her words was very clear to some of us but not to others. While Alatar remained placid and unaware, the smug smile vanished immediately from Curumo's face, bringing one to my own and to some others who, like me, thought he could use a little humility now and then.

The members of our assembly started agitating as if ready to leave, but another voice rose. "My Lord Manwë, I ask of thee to consider sending another messenger." Oromë. What could he possibly want now? Pallando stepped closer and many of us smiled in understanding, though some frowned.

Manwë asked, "Who would you send, my friend?"

"Please consider allowing Alatar some company for this journey. I propose that he takes Pallando, as his friend." Pallando was famed as one of Oromë's best hunters and trackers, but he was more known as Alatar's lover. I could not help admiring Oromë's generosity in considering his servant's needs, but I wondered what Manwë would decide, as it was well known that many disapproved of such a union.

Manwë smiled and assented. He waved his hand preparing for the final words, but another voice rose. "My lord, please consider yet another."

Yavanna. My mistress. This was a surprise. Though I knew that she worried quite a lot about the fate of her creatures in Middle-earth, I had never thought her to be the type to intervene so openly. More likely her husband, Aulë.

"Please, Lord Manwë, I beg of you, let me send one of my most trusted, as I fear my creatures will need care and solace in the dire times approaching."

Manwë did not agree immediately. While he meditated, wild possibilities crossed my mind, trying to figure out whom she would propose. I was in shock, petrified, when she replied to Manwë's same question. "Aiwendil. I trust him the most to love and care for my work."

Those around me moved to look better at me. Some even congratulated me in low voices, while I gazed at them, astounded. Manwë did not seem very enthusiastic about this, though. "I allow it, only if he goes with one of the others. Your servants, Yavanna, can be a little... naïve and distracted at times, and I want to make sure that he settles in properly before facing the tasks ahead. Alatar and Pallando are going together, which leaves Curumo or Olórin."

Olórin stayed silent, but Curumo promptly replied, "My lord, with all due respect, I plan to leave as soon as possible, and I probably will not have time to wait for Aiwendil and then to accompany him and find a place for him. Please have him go with Olórin."

I had always disliked him but in that moment... But before I could say a word Manwë intervened, "Curumo, he can do those things without your aid." Looking over to the assembly, he said, "May none of you mistake my words for a sign of lack of faith in Aiwendil or any other servant of Yavanna. I merely fear that he will plunge too soon and too deeply into his tasks."

Yavanna too seemed annoyed by Curumo's dismissal. "He may not shine as brightly as others, but his light is steady and soothing. I would prefer for him to go with someone who would value his company better." She turned to face Olórin, and her voice softened when she spoke to him, "Olórin, my friend, will you do this for me?"

All eyes focused on him, and to my eternal joy and gratitude he bowed and said, "As you wish my lady."

Curumo lowered his eyes, probably in relief. I could almost hear his thoughts, "Good, let him have the useless fool. Why waste time with him when I can be discovering Middle-earth and showing them how powerful and wise I am?"

I, for one, was more than glad not to share his company, and Olórin's generosity... it had been more than I had expected, but was he not always like that? Always kind and warm. I would like this journey.

I was brought off my reflections by Varda's voice. "I would prefer that Aiwendil go now with Curumo, for there are some things that I want Olórin to do by himself upon his arrival."

Manwë glanced at her and nodded, simply saying, "So be it."

My fate had being played without my intervention. I suppose that in that night I should have learned a lesson, but maybe they are right when they call me fool.


	2. Settling

**Mithlond, 1000 Third Age**

We arrived upon Middle-earth's shores on a rainy day. Curumo was less than pleased, but his disposition worsened with our reception. An elf, Círdan came to greet us. He was very warm and welcoming, but I suspect that Curumo would have preferred him to be deferential, almost worshipping.

I immediately liked Círdan. He took us into his home and gave us warm dry rooms and water to wash. I was glad, for I love the land, not the waters, may Ulmo forgive me, and the permanent scent of salt and sea for the last days was becoming hard to bear.

There was a mirror in my room. I was surprised looking at it. I had touched this new body, of course, but I had not looked at it properly. I had expected it to be weaker and older, but it seemed vigorous enough, as if it belonged to a man younger than the face in the mirror. Unlike Curumo, I had a beard which was brown, not white, and much shorter. Still, I looked old. My brown eyes were surrounded by tiny wrinkles, as if I had spent my life laughing. My hair was a wild mixture of dark brown and grey hair, more grey than brown above my ears, forming two wings. I liked my new body instantly. It would serve me well and it was comfortable.

Later, near dusk, I felt hungry. These peculiarities of my body were still fresh and new, strange even, but I liked to eat. Fortunately, an elf came to call me and Curumo for dinner. It was wonderful. The food was more elaborate than on the ship and had more variety. Círdan had another guest, a messenger from Lothlórien, and we spent a long time talking, learning about Middle-earth from them both and from Círdan's counsellor, Galdor. Curumo's mood had improved, and he was now showing his most charming side, even to me.

I suppose that he did not want to look too brisk in front of Círdan's eyes, or maybe back then he was already thinking I could become an ally in this world that had not yet been dazzled by his presence. Manwë had been right about my naïveté, however, as I found myself thinking that he might want to be my friend.

Despite the warm welcoming and what I thought was a budding friendship, I left soon. I marvelled at Mithlond, and I wanted to see more and more of Middle-earth and start immediately on my tasks of loving and caring for my mistress's creatures. And there was a part of me that I had not known before that wanted to prove that I could do it by myself and needed not Curumo's guidance or help. Thus, a month later, I left on a donkey that Círdan offered me. It was a sweet, docile animal, and he soon became a friend. I named him Daisy, Eirien in the new elven language, for he loved to nibble on the daisies on our way, and he too seemed to like his new name.

I had witnessed the arrival of Alatar and Pallando, much sooner than we had expected. They even talked of leaving with me, as I was heading east, but Curumo insisted that they stayed longer. I thought that he wanted to make sure that they were well prepared for the journey, but in remembrance every single action of his seems suspect to me, even in those days when he had not been corrupted by power, but merely dazzled.

I left and wandered through roads and woods, avoiding as much as I could both Edain and Eldar. I was not here for them and their company, and although at times it was welcome, it felt like a delay, despite the fact that I had no defined plan.

I roamed through the plains south of Nenuial and headed to the Weather Hills, circling them on the north. Then I bent to the south and caught the road that I saw in Círdan's maps, crossing the Mitheithel at the Last Bridge and then following the road until I crossed another river, the Bruinen. There I met the elves of Imladris, but I did not dwell there long, despite Elrond's perfect hospitality.

I agreed, however, to spend the worst part of the winter, because I saw that Eirien, my faithful companion, suffered from the cold, and a long journey through the mountains in midwinter would be too much for him to withstand. Elrond was kind enough to discuss the alternatives for crossing the mountains, but his best advice was that I remained on the western side. The dangers would be many and not all from the weather or the roads. I could understand his reasoning, and yes, it was true that I would not lack work on this side of the Misty Mountains, but something impelled me to pass over them anyway. Maybe this was what Manwë meant when he said that the flesh would bring confusion, but I would not classify this feeling as fear; it was more similar to what they called hope. Something awaited me over those hills, and thus I crossed them in the next spring.

This was when I first met another of my dearest, most trusted friends in Middle-earth: Thorondor, Lord of the Eagles. I had not found yet any foul creature to put me to the test, but I travelled with my heart heavy, not for myself, but for dear Eirien. After the first mountain I noticed eagles constantly circling in the skies above us, almost as if they were watching us. I tried to call them in their language, but they did not heed me. The more I watched them, the more I was sure that these were no ordinary eagles. They were organized, and after several days of watching I called to one and asked to speak to their leader. The eagle circled above us for one last time and left. Not long after that, a great eagle approached from the blue and hovered around our heads.

"Lord of the Eagles, servant of Manwë, I am Aiwendil of Yavanna's." I could feel Eirien restless by my side, afraid of the moving shadow, but I rested my hand on his back. These creatures would have attacked us long before if they had wished so.

"And what brings you to these parts, Aiwendil of Yavanna's?" he asked. For a moment I thought he mocked me, but his tone was sombre.

"I travel to the east at her service," I said simply for I had no purpose but to know this land.

"Will you travel with me then for a while?" he asked, his tone as friendly as any eagle could ever be. My heart leaped with joy. Another person might have feared this invitation, but at that moment I felt I had made another friend, and I wanted to know him better. He cried loudly, and another of his subjects, whom later I came to know was Gwaihir, the Windlord, flew near. I mounted his back and Gwaihir picked my terrified Eirien. They carried us through the mountains into the east. Flying was wonderful and I found myself laughing until tears of joy ran cold from my eyes into my ears on the fresh mountain wind.

They took us to their home in the Great Shelf and offered us their best hospitality. We stayed there for three days, but then I had to ask Thorondor to allow us to leave, since I saw that Eirien's discomfort grew everyday, and such a good friend as he had been deserved my concern. In the days I had stayed there, I had held long conversations with Thorondor and some of his closest about the lands and about what I could tell them of my tasks for the future. I think that I learned more of what I needed to know from his stern wisdom in those days than in the months spent with Elrond and Círdan, though by no means am I detracting from their wisdom. It is just a different kind, I think.

Thorondor flew us as far as he could, avoiding the places of men and showed me much more than I had hoped to see. He finally stopped and landed near the Anduin's left margin, up in the north. A few miles up we could see an island and on the margin gigantic steps carved by some mysterious hand. Gwaihir followed my stare and answered my silent question. "That is the Carrock, made by one who is neither man nor animal. Beware of him, Bird Tamer."

"I am grateful for your advice, but I am your friend, not your tamer," I answered.

He ruffled his feathers sceptically. "Maybe, but no man had ridden me before."

Thorondor signalled him, and they both left, promising to search for me often.

Eirein and I headed to the mysterious rocks, me hastening my pace to discover this creature, neither beast, nor man, and befriend him. Eirien kept looking up and back, still in fear of some more forced flight.

As we advanced to the north, I searched for a way to cross the river, but I could see no ford or signs of this creature. Night fell, and we stopped. I made a small fire and sat on the ground beside Eirien, who felt afraid of this empty night.

The fire slowly turned to embers, and this fragile body embraced another one of its simple pleasures: sleep. Late in the night, a deep rumble woke me. Eirien was already awake, all tense and looking nervously around. The rumble turned into a roar, and the roar came closer and closer. Ah, a bear, I thought. Then to my alarm, I realized that they were many bears. Bears do not hunt in packs, I reminded myself, but there was no mistake: there were at least ten, and they were surrounding us. Once more, I feared that what I was allowed to use of my powers was not enough to protect Eirien, who hid desperately behind me, wanting to run but refusing to leave me behind.

I tried diplomacy first. "Brother bears, how fare you?" I asked, hoping that they were not too hungry. The moon had already set, and they had probably fed not long ago.

Angry growls were my answer. I tried again. "This land of yours is beautiful. I am glad I had the chance to see it."

I could see that at least one of them, the largest, pricked up his ears. The others let their roars be heard, loud and clear. Trying to obtain the largest one's attention I continued, "I am looking for someone special, perhaps you know him." Noticing the slightly inquisitive look in his eyes I continued, taking a huge risk, "I know little about him, but he has been described to me as being neither man nor beast."

At these words the largest bear jumped forward with a roar, and in the last minute I said the words for the first time, "Yavanna, a varya me! "

We were lifted up in a haze of blue light, and the bear fell to the ground with out his prey. I lowered my arm and Eirien and I were softly deposited on the ground, inside the safe light.

"Brother bear, why do you wish us harm?" I asked.

"I am not your brother!" he growled with such hate that the light dimmed.

He stepped closer. "Who are you to claim brotherhood to one who is 'neither beast nor man' I ask!"

"I am Aiwendil of Yavanna's. I am brother to each and every one of her creatures."

I could see he was slightly taken aback, but he insisted. "Am I one of her creatures? Or am I one of her mistakes?"

"Ah, who told me you were neither man nor beast was wrong. You are both. Fierce as a bear and complicated as a man." Strangely, this answer seemed to please him somewhat. I continued, "Even the Valar can make mistakes, but one thing I know and that is Yavanna loves each and every one of her creatures, be it wolf, oak or bear. She also loves Illúvatar's children. You are both, so I can only assume that she loves you doubly."

He started to laugh and laugh until he was rolling on the ground. The other bears stepped back, looking at their leader in awe and soon began to leave, one by one. I stood there, not knowing what to do at this unexpected hilarity, but it was contagious, and I started smiling, then chuckling and then laughing out loud, still with a very frightened Eirien hiding behind me.

The bear's laughter dimmed as dawn let her pink fingers comb the horizon. He grew quieter and quieter, rolling himself in a fur ball and moaning low. I wanted to help him for I sensed he was in pain, but I was not sure how or if I should at all. Thus I stood watching as Beorn the bear became Beorn the man.

In this first dawn together he led me to his house, up the Anduin and across the margin and fed me honey and bread. I was glad to know him at last, but he did not speak much. He showed me my bed and Eirien his stable and then lay to sleep until it was almost noon. I too was tired and the sleep came as a blessing.

Later we talked for long. I asked him what had made him laugh, but he declined to answer. Many years later he would tell me, and then we joined in laughter and understanding, but at that moment I was not a friend to him yet.

Beorn took me in his house for a long time. I think he would have liked for me to stay with him forever, caring for his animals, but though I felt this was the perfect place for settling, I could not live with him. I needed a place where all living things could come and go with no fears, including the creatures of the night.

In one of our wanderings I found a place that would suit my needs: in the edge of Mirkwood we found a natural cave whose entrance was partially covered with the roots of the trees that grew above it. Light came in from the sides through some natural openings. Nearby a little stream of fresh, clean water ran. I was between meadow and forest, near my friends and near the road. It was perfect. Of course, Beorn, being a good friend and a perfectionist thought it could be improved, and he helped me to line the ground and the ceiling with wood and to protect the entrance with a door, and he insisted in making me some furniture more to my size.

I called my new home Rhosgobel.

I had helped all the animals I could on my way here, a dove with a broken wing, a snake trapped in her nest, a wolf with an abscess in his paw, and so many others, but since my location was not yet well-known, I thought it would take a while for all the animals to know where they could find me. I was wrong. Soon they came from all over, some just to meet me, others asking for my help. Sometimes I had to leave and travel to far places to help, but most of the times I could remain home, receive them, care for them, and then let them go.

Beorn came often and so did Thorondor and Gwaihir. I loved their company, but I also enjoyed the silence. I was happy then.


End file.
